


Your Rightful Place

by ivarara



Series: Maxis [28]
Category: Warframe
Genre: ths is an old one but i'm trying to go thru my folder to post everything and be caught up lmo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:33:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22941055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivarara/pseuds/ivarara
Summary: Max is caught by the Corpus. She laments on a few things.
Series: Maxis [28]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1252910
Kudos: 3





	Your Rightful Place

Max was used to waking on uncomfortable surfaces in uncomfortable positions. Comfortable sleep was something she had given up the moment she joined the Grineer. Instead of the comfort of the Somatic Link on her Orbiter, she now rested in barren bunks, often fighting Trouvaille for room. If not the bunks, then she made do: curled up on a bench in a galleon or dropship, propped up against a wall, even dozing upright on her feet.

However, this was far different.

The room was freezing, making her curl in on herself to stay somewhat warm. Even in the barracks, there were other bodies keeping the room relatively warm. That was not the case here.

Reflexively, she reaches blindly off to the side to feel for Trou’s ruffled fur to bury her fingers in to ground herself. After a few moments of fruitless grabbing, she stiffens with a jolt. Her eyes fly open further.

She is completely, utterly alone. For the first time in a grand span, she had nobody near. No Trouvaille, no Hush, no Zus, no fellow soldiers.

In a panic, she looks frantically around. The room-- cell, she was in a prison cell-- was cramped and bare. No windows or vents in or out. No way to access the door from the inside.

Defeatedly, she props herself up in a corner of the small Corpus cell. Her body aches. She can feel burns from plasma rounds eating through her armor. Other cuts from Crewmens’ rifles. Bruises and scrapes from being handled with the least amount of concern for her well-being.

What had happened? What went so horribly wrong?

Max dug deep into her brain, struggling to remember anything.

She was with Hush and Trouvaille. Nothing out of the ordinary about the mission: get in, get the critical data, get out. But along the way, something must have gone awry. Why else would she be here?

Only faintly did she remember anything. Creeping down an empty hallway. Dodging security cameras. Alarms erupting around them. Being swarmed by Corpus crewmen and MOAs. Nothing afterwards.

Hush and Trou must have gotten away safely. Where would they be otherwise? Max dearly hoped they had escaped, back to the battalion to report what happened and to get help.

That sparked a thought. Would her squad come back for her? She knew Hush would put up a fight to get her back, and Trou would likely anxiously pace and whine and cry until the others lost their minds. Zus obviously cared about her greatly. The other troopers of the squad either liked her or at least tolerated her being there. 

But then again, she was a Tenno. Zus may not want to risk his soldiers to save someone who had previously slain an unfathomable number of his fellow Grineer. Sure, she was a valuable asset to their team, but she’d never felt like she fit in completely. She still garnered sneers and foul looks and curses when others thought she wasn’t present.

So why risk true Grineer, who had always served the Queens, to return one measly Tenno?

Her thoughts darkened. Maybe it had all been a play, an elaborate trick to make her falsely believe that she’d found a safe haven. 

She’d been left behind...what, three times now? Four? She listed off the past in her head. First, the Zariman incident. Then Margulis. Then her fellow Tenno, ditching her in the Derelicts. Finally, the Lotus ultimately abandoning her role she had taken on. Why should she be upset or surprised anymore?

Maybe this was the final straw. 

Trembling, tears welling up on her lashes, she hugged her knees to her chest like she’d done countless time before in order to calm herself. She half-expected Ivara to sling an arm around her shoulder and bring her in for a tight embrace, or for Trou to rudely shove his wet nose into her ear, or for Zus to clap a hand on her shoulder. 

Nothing happened. 

She was all alone.

\---

Max woke slowly, sluggishly. For a split second, she felt a panic at the unfamiliar surroundings. After a moment, she recalled everything. 

Any hope she may have mustered up vanished. Still in a cell. Still alone.

She tried listening outside of the door to distract herself. Though faint, various things could be heard.

Security cameras droning on and on as they scanned the floor. Wardens thumping by, mumbling lowly under their breath. Clicking of Corpus walkers’ feet on the metal floor. A faint rumble that reverberated through the holding area that she thought nothing of.

For a while, she told herself it as just typical rattling. Fairly persistent, but not a single one of the Wardens reacted, if they even heard it.

Soon, though, it surpassed sounding normal. Frankly, she was surprised nobody else seemed to notice the racket.

The faint rumbles were soon cut off by a soft thump right outside the cell’s door. It caught Max’s attention, making her perk up and stare anxiously at the door. A few seconds pass with no more sounds.

 _You’re getting your hopes up for nothing,_ an ugly voice in her head sneered. _They’re not coming back for you._

It quashes the swell of hope she had held on to for this long. But before her thoughts ran rampant again, the door clicks. It slides open. 

Hush peers into the cell cautiously. Max can tell the precise moment she notices who’s inside. Seemingly ignoring any possible threats and throwing caution to the wind, she whooshes in to kneel down and hug Max tightly. The force of it jostles Max’s weary body and agitates wounds, but she’s far too elated to care. As much as can from her seated position, Max reaches one arm around her Warframe’s shoulders, the other going around Hush’s side to clutch at the fabric of the syandana on her back.

Max doesn’t realize how long it’s been, or that she’s shaking like a leaf in the wind. Worried, Hush pulls back and cocks her head to the side. As per usual, she takes to fretting over her Operator: checking her head for bumps, holding Max’s arms out to inspect, even intensely focusing for a moment to make sure Max was breathing normally. Any other time, Max would roll her eyes and bat her hands away, but after spending so much time convinced she’d never see Hush again, she’s content.

With a final gentle pat to the shoulder, Hush rises to her feet, pulling Max gingerly up with her.

Too work out to properly speak, Max feebly nods to show she’s ready to go.

The cell door whooshes open again, and they exit.

\---

A dropship picks them up upon exiting the Corpus facility safely. The Hounds’ medic was on board, and carefully gave Max yet another inspection. Their hands are rough as they work methodically, but the cloaked relief in their unmasked eyes bely their true thoughts. 

“So,” they start off, “seems like you had yourself a little adventure?”

Suddenly in the spotlight, Max ducks her head and shrugs.

The medic chuckles. “No worries, kid. Nobody was angry. Worried? Yes. Stressed? Absolutely. But I assure you, they’re be happy to have you back in a single piece.” The heave a sigh. “You yourself are a little worse for wear, but nothing serious. I’ll take care of it on the galleon.”

\---

The vastness of Grineer galleons would typically confuse those less familiar with them, with the twisting hallways and endcaps.

For Max, they felt safe.

Before the dropship even properly docks in the hangars, she can see Zus and a few of the Hounds waiting.

She approaches them meekly, still half-expecting to get chewed out. But no harsh words are spoken; just a round of rowdy laughing and shoulder claps and arm nudges that bob her back and forth on her feet.

Zus doesn’t take part in the welcoming. He stands aside and watches.

“Welcome back, eh?” The squad’s Hellion booms. “Good thing, too, boss-man here hasn’t let us be since we all found out. Not to mention your fur bag and his pacin’ and whinin’.” They quirk their head and throw a thumb over their shoulder at the hallway.

As if on cue, Trouvaille erupts from around the corner, skidding a few feet before charging towards the group. The soldiers are well-aware that there’s no stopping him once he’s begun his rampage, and quickly step back to let him through. Without preamble, he launches himself at the weary Operator. There’s so much force behind the leap that Hush has to catch the two of them before they topple backwards.

Trouvaille is trying his best to climb into Max’s arms while standing upright. He settles for rearing up on his hind legs to reach her face, which he does a thorough job of covering with kisses and licks. His tail is thumping against Max’s legs hard and fast enough to make them ache again, but she’s so relieved that she doesn’t notice. She instead puts his neck in a careful and playful headlock and ruffles his ears.

It takes a while, but Trou soon is content that Max wasn’t going to vanish. He dutifully followed her, Hush, and the medic to an equipment room, and took great care of intently watching as Max was checked over and bandaged up. Hush leaned against the wall nearby, having more trust in the combat medic’s work than the kubrow.

When sure she’s good to go, the medic gently ushers her out of the room. “You’re worn out,” they scold, “you should do nothing but rest for now.”

With that, the three of them meander their way down halls towards the bunks. At some point, Zus appears behind them, trailing silently. He follows them to the barracks and only speaks when he’s sure no one else is inside.

“Quite the close call.” It’s not questioning, or a comment; it’s a statement.

Max shrugs a shoulder. “Been through worse before.”

“I’m well aware,” Zus hums. “It does not make the aftermath any more tolerable.”

The Operator scoffs. “What aftermath?”

“‘What aftermath?’” Zus parrots. “You seem to not understand.”

“Understand what? Half the Hounds still probably don’t like that I’m here. I don’t blame them. They were probably grateful for some relief.”

Zus shakes his head slightly, and sighs.”I cannot deny that with certainty. However,” he pauses and looks straight at her. “There were a considerable number of them that anxiously waited for news regarding your safety. Every time I turned around, another was inquiring about your well-being. The entire duration of your absence, it was like that.” Max had taken to quietly glaring down at her boots. “Not to mention these two,” he adds lightly, gesturing to Hush and Trou. “I had anticipated antics from them, but not to this extent. This one,” a gloved finger to Hush, “ceaselessly trailed myself and eavesdropped a great deal more than usual. And this one was even worse-off.” The finger shifts to Trou. “Battle-hardened, trained to the point of lethality, but yet he would sit in your empty bunk and, I do not joke, cry. Whine and whine, all he did. Refused to eat or drink or move. It was, quite frankly, one of the most pathetic things I’ve ever seen.”

Trou, oblivious to the manner in which he was being described, sits tall and proud. Hush rolls her head at both of them.

“What I am saying, Maxis,” he grabs her attention by using her entire name, “do not underestimate or misjudge your place here. You were dearly missed. If it happens again soon, I’m sure there will be riots.”

Max rubs her shoulder self-consciously and nods lightly.

“Now. Get some rest. I’ll keep you off the roster for a day or two while you recuperate.”

As he turns to leave, Max plunks herself down on the bunk with a heaved sigh. Trouvaille quickly takes up his spot at the foot of the bunk.

Zus turns around just before exiting. “One more thing.”

All three look up at him.

“I did, in fact, miss your presence greatly. Don’t let it happen again.”


End file.
